How about a few firsts?

Yesterday was not only the first day of December, it was also the first day of Advent.

(Make that Advent in the Western Christian calender, which runs between 21 and 27 days before Christmas, depending. The Eastern Orthodox faithful, in contrast, observe it as a 40-day fast that began November 15 this year.)

For us, our first snowfall of the year also began yesterday, and it’s already delivered seven inches, a bit under half of what’s expected by tomorrow morning.

My wife was pleased to have all of this also fall into the extended Thanksgiving Day weekend, a welcome break in what’s been a chaotic schedule.

How’s the month kicking off for you?

Snow’s piled up atop the thermometer on the tree trunk. Welcome to December where we live.

 

Antique farmers’ forks

As a child, I was so fond of a bone-handle fork at my grandparents’ that I always got to eat with it whenever I visited. Its design is simple, the metal something other than silver or stainless steel. I still find it elegant and rightly weighted in the hand. I imagine they came to western Ohio in a Conestoga wagon from Lancaster or York county, Pennsylvania.

Oh, nuts! Better watch your step

In our neck of the woods, it’s been a hard mast, meaning hard-shelled nuts have fallen in much higher-than-normal levels.

While the uncommon profusion is attributed to an unpredictable confluence of factors, it does provide a feast for squirrels, deer, and other wildlife. Any surplus surviving the predators then has a good chance to refurbish the forests and byways.

As has been noted, nature really is promiscuous.

Lean years, in contrast, limit the animal populations and their offspring.

Mast is most notably reported as acorns, but in our house, overshadowed by a black walnut tree, the golf ball-sized orbs are hammering the kitchen roof and trashcans. We keep thinking people are knocking at our backdoor or something big has fallen over downstairs or outside or even a crazy golfer neighbor is slicing his shots and hitting our house, one-two-three. They’re even a hazard to our parked cars.

Meanwhile, our squirrels are littering the stoops, patio table and chairs, and driveway with messes of shells that stain anything underneath black – is that the origin of black in the walnut variety’s name? But that’s not the only problem.

No, the nuts are so plentiful they make venturing out into the yard a treacherous course akin to walking on ball bearings or marbles. We haven’t fallen yet, but we’ve come close.

It’s especially troublesome when I have a load of firewood in my arms.

We aren’t alone in this, are we?

The bright blue line threading upward on the right side is a garden hose, providing a size comparison for the dangerous green globes filling much of the rest of the photos. Yes, they are fallen walnuts, which are still raining down on our house.